


Roar Of The Crowd, Heartache To Sing

by frenchrevolutionary



Series: Kill All Your Friends [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 10:44:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3893431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frenchrevolutionary/pseuds/frenchrevolutionary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Relationships are built best when face to face...right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roar Of The Crowd, Heartache To Sing

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone reading my other story, 10 bitter years, this is something in the same universe! Also a rewrite, this story is the backstory for two of my other characters that I wrote first. It's not impressive nor is it very good but I have a friend, a best friend, who likes to bug me about rewriting things.
> 
> \- for Samantha, you bitch.

 

            Hello. My name is Millicent Roxanne Noble but please, just call me Milly. I’m twenty-three years old, a college dropout, a little underweight and sometimes, I make poor decisions.

 

Growing up, my family, consisting of my mom, dad, brother and I, were pretty well off. My mom was a high school literature teacher in Hoboken and my dad was a banker who worked primarily in NYC. The business that he worked for, his office, was in the South Tower of the World Trade Center, the 82nd floor.

In September 2001, I was a month away from eighteen.

No one expected what happened that Tuesday morning. I was at home, skipping my college classes that day. My mom was at work. So was my dad.

 

As far as I know, he was killed on impact. At least, that’s what I hope.

 

After that, mom and I both broke down. She quit teaching because she couldn’t anymore. We sold our large house in the suburbs and moved into my uncle Brenan’s townhouse. He’s my dad’s brother and practically a second dad to me. Brenan also lost his partner that day. We were one big depressed pity party.

Mom and I lived off of insurance for a while. So did Brenan.

 

I couldn’t stand to go into the city so I withdrew from my classes at Queens College.

When depression takes over, it’s hard to find things that create happiness.

I managed to find one thing, though, that made everything better.

Not must general music, however, one single band.

 

I was out with a friend, Victoria (I usually just call her Vicky), at a shitty bar on the opposite side of Hoboken from our townhouse. She brought me out to see this band that she had heard about from one of her friends, Germ. Germ, or Jeremy depending on who you are, was the buddy of one of the band members performing that night.

I had no idea it was their first performance. It changed my life, in retrospect.

Sister To Sleep, they called themselves. They looked like sloppy messes with bad hair but I loved it. Their energy, their passion and especially the lead’s voice drove me to keep up with them. Anytime I heard anything about them, it was me who was dragging Vicky out to their shows.

Whenever they were in the surrounding area, I went to a show.

I bought their demo and the shitty stickers (which I put on everything).

I eventually bumped into the wife of the friend of a friend, Germ’s friend Frank’s wife, Michelle. She recognized me, which is probably sad.

“Aren’t you at all of these?”

“Y-yeah.”

“You don’t get tired of Frank thrashing around like he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing?”

“That’s one of the best parts!”

Michelle and I became show friends. We would speak when we would see each other, eventually exchanging phone numbers. Occasionally, we would call each other and gab about useless stuff.

As my obsession with this small, loud band grew, I changed. My heart, which had been pretty dark, closed off, started to open. This gave me reason. Their music opened me up to things I have never felt before, or heard before.

I was a sheltered, rich kid.

My style changed, attitude changed, personality bloomed.

When the money started draining, mom went back to work, as did Brenan. I got a crap job at a restaurant waiting tables to pay for these trips to see these guys play.

Once they had a website up, I was on it daily.

When they got a forum, I nearly died. I spent my days trolling, digging through the threads for perhaps even a hint of a post from one of the guys, especially Geoff, the lead and main lyricist for the band.

The singer is always my favorite and he was absolutely no exception.

As the band grew in popularity, the boys started to change. I noticed the most in Geoff. He began to dress the part of a front man. Frank, the rhythm guitarist, opted to shave off his terrible hair as did the bassist, Mikey.

The forums grew in popularity and I eventually became a moderator for them, which was a very mild achievement in my life. I’ll always be proud of that.

My very small group of friends, two or three, grew in number as I found more and more friends on the forum.

There was at least one thing we all had in common: our love for this band.

 

One night in particular on the forum that sticks out in my memory is the night that I met G.

The thread was about something dumb, jeans or some sort of clothing discussion. G, who was known then (to me, anyway) as criminally.vulgar posted something about wearing only onesies covered in fur. I remember asking him “But criminally.vulgar, how soon is now?”

He was surprised that I got his reference.

It got his attention.

From then on out, we talked every day on the forum, then in emails, then on an instant messenger. After a year and a half of talking nearly every day, he asked me if we were a couple. I told him that I had to hear his voice before I could answer that honestly.

I will admit, when I first heard his voice, I was taken aback. He didn’t sound like I expected. I knew he was from New Jersey but he had no real accent and a little bit of a lisp.

“Hello?”

“Hi..uh…Millicent?”

“Oh, god, please, just Milly.”

“Millicent is actually really bad ass. You should embrace your name completely.”

“Says the guy who goes by a letter.”

“G is a good letter.”

“A good letter isn’t a name, darling.” When I first heard his laugh, I remember my entire body feeling like it was on fire. I loved him then. “Also, a question. What makes you think we’re a couple?”

“Because you’re the first thing I think about when I wake up and you’re the last thing on my mind before I go to sleep.”

“I didn’t want to be the creepy one first but I have to say that goes the same for me.”

“Don’t ever worry about being a creep, Milly. I’m into it.”

 

From our first phone call to now, a lot has changed. We talk on the phone every day, when he can, but I consider myself hopelessly devoted to a man I’ve never seen before.

Seriously, I’ve never seen his face.

He’s seen mine, though. Which, now, seems unfair, but I can’t stop him from doing searches for me online.

Our entire relationship seems like a creep-off. He’s a few points up on me.

I do, however, have the trump card of having one of his drawings that he drew for me now permanently inked on my body. Nothing like having a very jagged, very heavily stylized forest skyline tattooed around your ribcage.

I know that he’s a busy guy who plays music but it’s something he likes to keep to himself. He’ll tell me about songs he’s writing, even asks me for help with some editing.

 

I often find myself in the same conversation, though.

 

“Why do you care about me, Mil? Honestly.”

“I think you brainwashed me into it.”

“Kept you so in the dark, shrouded in mystery, that you just got sucked into the loop and could never get out?”

“Exactly. I never wanted to get out, though, so there’s that.”

 

After over three years of talking online, he dropped the words first.

G told me he loved me.

It was a very casual conversation and it was only in text.

 

**Maladjusted.G – I have to go, the guys are giving me a hard time for constantly being on my computer. :-(**

xXx0bullets0xXx – Oh, okay. No big deal. We can talk about your opinions on paint colors tomorrow. Mom can wait!

**Maladjusted.G – You don’t have to wait for my opinion.**

xXx0bullets0xXx – You’re the smartest guy I know when it comes to color combos and what looks best where. I really don’t want a shit brown accent wall in our dinning room.

**Maladjusted.G – Can’t Brenan make these decisions? Lol**

xXx0bullets0xXx – No! He’s leaving it all up to me because he’s terrible and awful and wants to stress me out.

**Maladjusted.G – The world’s out for you, dearest.**

xXx0bullets0xXx - *nods with a frown *

**Maladjusted.G – Okay, Milly, I’ll call you later, alright? I love you. Xo**

xXx0bullets0xXx – I

At this point, I had hit enter too soon. He was waiting for a reply but I had no idea what to say. My heart was lumped up in my throat, beating a million miles a minute. All of the blood in my body was pooled in my cheeks.

 

**Maladjusted.G – Milly?**

 

Did he not realize what he had said to me?

 

xXx0bullets0xXx – I love you too, G. Go have fun.

 

He did call me later, but only to say goodnight.

After the endorphins wore off, I really thought about what we had said to each other after this long. This isn’t platonic love; this is the real deal.

Romantic, all out, getting married kind of love.

I had to tell myself to calm down there.

I may love the guy, and have for over a year and a half but I’ve never seen his face.

 

Now, tonight, our schedule goes as such: He’s busy from 3 to 6 PM my time, after that, he calls, then from 6 to 11, he’s busy again but after that, he’s all mine. It’s nearly midnight when I hear the familiar ding of the new message notification; I can’t help but squeal a little. The endorphins have kicked in again. I want to tell him I love him now more than ever, legitimize it in my backlog of our conversations.

Is it odd that I have a notepad file saved of all of our important IM conversations?

Don’t answer that.

I move from my bed to my desk, clicking on the flashing red tab on my start bar.

 

 **Maladjusted.G** – **I’m writing a new song**.

xXx0bullets0xXx – What’s it about?

**G – Seeing your former heroes for what they are when you grow up.**

M – That’s kinda deep, babe.

**G – That’s the only way I do it.**

M – Balls deep.

**G – Exactly. Lol. How was your day?**

I sigh, recalling a mostly boring day in my life. My brother came home to visit for a few days.

**G – You haven’t told me much about your brother?**

Because my brother is a moron, I want to say. I don’t, though, because it would be rude of me. My older brother, Burt, is a…special breed. He’s in a band that’s actually pretty popular but I won’t give it the time of day because…well, it’s my brother’s band.

Also, you would think that I would give them even more of a chance because they have worked with my favorite band on more than one occasion but I still refuse.

The only good thing about Burt is that he’s managed to introduce me to every member of Sister To Sleep at least twice, including both drummers!

 

M - I don’t like talking about him, honestly. He abandoned us when dad died because he did the same thing we did, shut down emotionally. Except instead of cry and eat ice cream and lay around like us, he got into hard drugs and found enablers and decided that it would be a good idea to just go around and sleep with people he met after shows and UGH. He’s home for the week though.

 

That was one bit of information I had forgotten to share with G earlier than now. It slipped my mind until now, honestly. I got a little distracted with the sharing of the feelings.

 **G – He’s going to stay with you, your mom and Brenan? All week? You guys are all synced up, how will he ever survive?** I roll my eyes at his period joke, all be it a good one.

M – Not going to even dignify that with a “lol.”

**G – You kinda just did but we won’t go into specifics, babe.**

M – You suck.

**G – Speaking of me sucking…I wanted to talk to you about something.**

M – Yeah?

**G – Yeah. I didn’t realize what I said last night before logging off.**

My heart starts to race. Damn you text and your inability to show tone!

M – What do you mean?

**G – You know what I mean, Milly. I said those words that we promised we wouldn’t say until we absolutely knew they were legitimate. It’s been a long time that we’ve been talking.**

M – It has been quite a while.

**G – So, I have a question for you.**

M – Go ahead.

**G – Do you think that even after never seeing my face that you can legitimately love me?**

The question hurts because it makes me think that he doubts me, my feelings for him. It is a valid question that I have wrestled with for a long time.

M – 100% Honesty, I’ve loved you for over a year now, G. Everything about you, all of your weird slang and your art, that funny noise that you make when you…uh…  ;)

**G – I know that noise, you don’t have to bring it up constantly.**

M - :P

**G – You’ve felt that way for that long? Why haven’t you said anything?**

M – You’re a busy guy with a lot going on. I’m never going to try to pull your attention away from your work and onto me. I was waiting on you.

**G – You’re always waiting on me.**

M – Because I love you.

He goes quiet, which makes me nervous.

M – I love you, G.

 **G – I love you, Millicent.** Even though I should have cringed at that, my heart flutters like crazy. The butterflies in my guts make me feel like I can float away.

My hands move involuntarily to my cellphone. When my fingers flip open my phone, they dial a number by pure muscle memory. He answers before the first ring ends.

“I love you, Milly.” If I had any idea that four words could make my eyes well this quickly…

“You beat me to it, you jerk.” When I sniffle, he makes a sound of concern.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve just been…waiting so long to hear that and I didn’t realize that I was.”

“Felt like we’ve been saying it for years, right?”

“Mhm,” I nod into my phone as a tear rolls down my cheek.

“I think that’s why it came out so easy last night. Didn’t even realize I had said it.” I hear one of his mouth sounds, his tongue moving around in his mouth, which tells me that he’s nervous. When did I realize that I knew all of his tells?

“I figured.”

“So..uh…”

“I love you, G.” His sigh sounds like a smile sigh.

“I’m sorry that it’s still just G.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. It’s also not okay that I’ve taken my dear sweet fucking time getting you to me.”

“It is okay. I’m never going to push you into-“

“I know you aren’t because you’re a saint and you’re far too good for me.” I want to argue against this but he sighs again. My body moves from my computer desk back to my bed. “I’m going to be in Jersey this week, coming in tomorrow morning.” The thumping in my chest picks up ten fold. “I’ve got some plans in the afternoon, collab stuff which I will tell you all about once it’s over but tomorrow night or just later this week…I should be free.” If I were to go to my bathroom and look in the mirror, I would see a desert landscape inside of my mouth. “I’ll actually be in Hoboken.”

“Who would ever want to come here to visit?” He chuckles quietly.

“Can I…Can I take you out on like, a proper date?” My cheeks hurt from smiling too hard.

“I mean…” He very quietly laughs.

“I guess it would be a weird blind date. Oh, you’ll hate me but I want to do it.” I scowl at the celling.

“Why would I hate you, G?”

“You probably will, just a quick assumption and probably for more than one reason.”

“Whatever, you idiot. I love you.”

“I love you.”

The call goes on like that for a few minutes before he tells me to go to bed because it’s nearly 1 and I have work in the morning.

 

It’s hard for me to sleep, obviously. My alarm clock is jolting me awake at 6:45 and I’m out and on my way to work by 6:50.

The restaurant that I’ve worked at for the past 4 years serves breakfast every day, 7 to 11, and it’s usually the shift I get stuck with.

Old bitter people usually tip well if you smile more and give them a few extra creamers for their coffee.

By 9, the place is nearly packed because it’s a weekend. Saturday mornings are always the worst, by far…except holidays. Around ten, I manage to check my phone and see that I have one new text, from G.

            Landed in Newark safe and sound, call you later.

My anxiety skyrockets and remains at vomit inducing levels until I get off of work at 3.

Sitting in the parking lot, my car is a little warm from sitting out in the sun all day.  After sweating for hours, however, the heat doesn’t bother me. I call my friend Vicky. She’s been around for all of this relationship so, maybe, she can help sort out my emotions.

 

“He’s done this before, you know.” Her tone is nearly brutal as she responds to me telling her he wants to take me out on a date. “Tell you he wants to take you out, that he’ll be in the area, and never does. Something always comes up.”

“I know, I know…But, I think this time is different.”

“What makes it _so_ different this time, Mil?” My hesitation is heavy on my shoulders. “What happened?” She asks after I don’t respond.

“He told me he loves me.” I think I hear a scoff on the other end.

“Finally.” I smirk, shaking my head.

“If I hear from him, I’ll let you know.”

“Be safe, Milly.”

“I’ll try my best.”

 

On the drive through town, I get a call from G.

“Hey there, pretty lady.” Of course, he starts out with a punch that brings blood to my cheeks.

“Hi, mister. How was your flight?”

“Not bad, surprisingly. The peanuts were a different brand than I’m used to so it was exciting.” My laugh makes me cough a little. I haven’t laughed all day. “How was work? Get any sweet tips?”

“A got a ten?”

“Woah! You can rule the world with ten bucks.”

“I’m planning on it. Might just buy stuff to make lunch, though.” I hear a voice mumble in the background on his side of the call. “Are you with your friend?” His end of the call sounds like fumbling and bumbling. I pull into the parking lot of a grocery store and sit in my car to wait for a response.

“Sorry,” he mumbles into his phone, “trying to help move stuff into his car.”

“You’re fine, babe.” With a sigh, I open my car door and get out, grabbing my purse as I shift around.

“I’ll call you back in ten, okay?” There is a loud bang on his end, accompanied by some yelling. G snickers quietly.

“Of course. Be careful. Bye.”

“Bye, beautiful.”

My phone goes into my pocket as I quickly run around the grocery store. Burt, my brother, has asked me to make a meal for him and his friend who’s visiting. When I asked him why couldn’t he cook for his guest, he whined about how the last time he tried to cook at our house, he burned his eyebrows off. None of that is my problem. If he can’t work a gas stove, that’s on him.

I call Burt as I walk around the isles, paying no mind to the two boxes of snack crackers, package of cookies and 12 pack of carbonated sin.

“Hello?” He sounds busy but I ignore it.

“What should I even cook? Who is your friend?”

“I’m not going to tell you because if I did you would get annoyed and not do it so please, just make something and know that I appreciate you like crazy.”

“Are they on any special diet? Are they vegetarian? Cutting carbs? What?” My eyes flick through the spices sitting on the shelf in front of me.

“Just make something! Whatever it is, he’ll love it!”

“He?”

“Gotta go, M. See you later.” I’m hung up on before I can respond. With a grumble and a small debate with myself, I grab the things I need for my turkey spaghetti.

As I pull in the driveway, I’m glad to see that I’m home before Burt. His gross BMW makes my Toyota look like a pageant queen.

Geoff calls as I’m gathering the bags from the grocery store.

“Hey, babe, I got a few minutes. What’s up?”

“Not much! Cooking for my brother and his friend. Making some pretty sweet turkey spaghetti.”

“You make it often.”

“It’s easy to throw together.”

“No beef mixed in this time?” I shake my head at no one but myself as I get out of the car with all of my bags on my arms. Closing the car door with my foot, my phone settles between my head and shoulder.

“Not this time. Not feeling _that_ spicy.” The click of a lighter comes through his side of the call. His breath sucks in quickly. He scoffs in his exhale.

“You usually are. Wonder what the difference is.”

“My brother won’t tell me who his friend is. I bet it’s that asshole Daryl. A guy from Jersey named fucking Daryl. What were his parents thinking?” G chuckles quietly, taking another drag off of his cigarette. Daryl, my brother’s drummer, is also a part time drug dealer. He and I don’t get along very well.

“Probably that he’d move somewhere warmer.”

I end the call with G while trying to open the door with one hand and carry everything else with the other. Knowing me, I would drop all of the bags and cry for hours because of stress.

Mom and Brenan are out of town on a weekend getaway with friends so it’s just me home alone. The sound system in the house is turned on for the first time in months.

My default listening choice will always be the playlist G built for me which mostly consists of Bowie and The Smiths with a few punk bands thrown in here or there. I’m not sure why he didn’t include my favorite band but maybe that’s just him trying to get me out of my shell musically.

I brown the meat, boil the water with the salt, mix that dumb jar of sauce into the meat and throw the dumb noodles into the water.

Begrudgingly doing things is my favorite way of doing things.

A few songs play as the noodles finish boiling. The strainer is a bit too hot when I go to pick it up from inside of the sink.

The front door opens; I hear it slam against the wall. I try to avoid the nerves but my palms sweat as I stir the noodles in the pot.

“Hey M! We’re home! Gonna go up stairs for a minute but we’ll be back down! Is food ready?”

“Yeah!” I call out to Burt, giving the sauce a second taste. It’s better than the store brand I usually use but not by much.

My body moves back to the oven after grabbing the Parmesan from the fridge when I hear bodies move into the room. Some mumbling and a chuckle float across the room before the music volume is turned down.

“So, might as well do the introductions now because he’s a forgetful bastard.” My hand flicks off the stovetop switch before I turn around.

There, standing not 5 feet from me, is my idol, the man who saved my life, Geoff Day. His hair is a little shaggy from the last time I saw them live but black as ever. The bags under his green eyes add to his attractiveness. He’s a little thinner now than last time I saw him. Geoff’s expression is one that I can’t quite place. Confusion, maybe? Concern? His eyes are little too wide now that he’s really looked at me.

If my armpits weren’t sweating before, by God, they are now. I hope I don’t smell like tomato sauce. I know I probably have tomato sauce on my face somewhere with the eyes that he’s giving me.

“Obviously, M, you know who this is, it’s the guy you’re totally obsessed with, Geoff Day. Geoff,” Burt turns to look at him, gesturing to me with his hand,” this is my kid sister M-“

“Milly.” Geoff blurts out. He looks like he swallowed something terrible when he speaks. “Milly.” I feel my heart pick up the pace.

“Yeah, you remembered.” I feel like I’m gushing but I haven’t said anything. My shy, awkward laugh makes me want to kick myself in the face.

“Millicent.” My brows furrow, causing me to frown slightly.

“I don’t really ever introduce myself that way but yeah, that’s my name.” One more awkward laugh from me includes me rubbing the back of my neck. The sweat starts to bead around my hairline. I must look terrible.

“Milly…God, I’m a fucking idiot.” He brings his hand up to his mouth, cupping his chin and shaking his head. My body takes an automatic step backward. Glancing at Burt, he looks almost as confused as me.

“I-I’m sorry?” Geoff sighs then, looking up at my face.

“You’re making turkey spaghetti without any beef added in because you weren’t feeling too spicy today.” I feel my heart in my throat. I want to vomit.

“How do…”

“You have a tattoo on your left wrist that says ‘bullets.’ You worked this morning. Got a ten-dollar tip from one of the many old couples you waited on. Ten bucks can rule the world.” My breathing starts to speed up. Sweat rolls down my back.

“Is this a joke?” I look at Burt who gives me a confused look, throwing up his hands.

“I have no idea what he’s talking about.” My gaze shifts between the two of them. Geoff takes a step closer to me but I take one step back.

“Milly, I’m G. Maladjusted G…Criminally vulgar…I’m G.” I put a hand up, wanting him to stop talking. It’s taking everything in me to stop the vomit from coming out of my body.

“Can…can you give us a minute, Burt?”

“What the fuck is going on?” Geoff sighs, looking over at my brother. I speak before he gets a chance to.

“The internet guy, Burt.”

“Yeah, you’ve told me about him.” I feel my expression change to one that says ‘duh,’ pointing a finger at Geoff.

“Wait…So, you’re telling me…That the guy you’ve been talking to for so long was the guy you’re actually obsessed with?”

“Don’t say obsessed,” I mumble.

“You’ve met each other like…6 times!”

“He never showed me his face or told me his real name.” Geoff winces at that, giving me a side ways look with his mouth.

“You should have known her, though, man. I know you’ve seen pictures of her, she told me about it.”

“I know. It didn’t click until now. I thought I recognized her from shows. I know she loves the band but…”

The silence that settles in the room makes my nausea worse.

“Burt.” My voice comes out far harsher than I wanted it to. His hands go up again in surrender.

“Yell if you need me.” With that, he’s out of the room. I hear his feet clomp up the stairs when I’m able to take another breath.

“Milly, I…I’m sorry.” The thoughts finally click together in my head. I’m no longer confused…I’m terribly, terribly pissed. My hands move to my sides, balling into fists. I can’t get my eyes to stay on him longer than a second.

“Why?”

“I…You know why I couldn’t just come out and say…who I was.”

“So you wait three years.” If I could growl, it would be at him right now. He starts to say something but stops himself with a sigh. “How was this going to go on our ‘proper date,’ Geoff?” His audible swallow makes my grimace increase.

“It was going to be you seeing me out in public, maybe speaking to me. If not, I was going to come up to you and ask you a few things. I didn’t expect it to go over smoothly but I was not expecting this.” He turns around, facing the other wall, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t want it to happen like this.”

“What did you want to happen? For me to just accept it and fall hopelessly into your arms like I’m a fucking idiot?”

“No, of course not!” He turns around then, moving close to me. I can’t breathe fast enough. “I wanted to…” His hand moves then. My body tenses up when he cups my jaw. When I close my eyes, my body naturally settles into his touch.

Every emotion, every feeling I’ve felt in the last ten minutes melts away. I have dreamed of this sensation, the feeling of G’s touch on my skin. For three years, I have yearned for this. Even though I am angry, upset and offended, this is the man I love. My body knows that better than my mind can comprehend.

When my eyes open, my arms move, wrapping around his waist. He grips me around my shoulders, hugging me tightly to his body with both arms.

“This,” he mumbles into the side of my head,” is what I wanted.” I feel Geoff’s lips kiss my head. A small smile grows on my lips.

The rational part of my body is fighting me. The part of my body that has wanted this for so long is beating the rational part of my body to a bloody pulp with its fists.

 

 

 


End file.
